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hate getting shots,” she said in Icelandic and then switched to German: “ Ich dachte wir wollen einen Schnapps bekommen ?”
    â€œThat is the reason we came, Fred,” the director said and smiled to the doctor. “The rest can wait until after the weekend.”
    â€œYes, but not a day longer! I shall join you in the lounge for a toast and then we’ll call it a day. Next week you can meet Helena and Steven. They’ll invite you to Warmoesstraat and get you what you need. What do you think of the name of their shop: Pleasure Fountain? I think it is very smart, most fitting.”
    â€œIs that a brothel?” Mother asked making the doctor shake his head with laughter. He went on to explain that the Pleasure Fountain was Helena’s herbal remedy shop.
    â€œShe’ll fix you up with something to make you feel better,” he said. “But now I want to make a toast to your arrival at Lowland and to better health. By all means try to enjoy your weekend. Only happy people stay at Hotel Europa. So have fun. Grüss Gott! ”

Chapter 4
    T he first night in Hotel Europa I dreamt that Mother and I were Siamese twins. I moved to the left and she moved to the left. I tried to shake loose but my body sat still on her hips, which were also my hips. Instead of four legs, we each had one leg and between them was a phenomenon that bore a striking resemblance to Albert Grimaldi, Crown Prince of Monaco. We fell and sprayed forth a million tons of blood that flowed over the earth until it went dark. I dissolved into Mother’s body—I was her and the entire galaxy at the same time. Gargantuan factories breathed black contagions over the world, and I knew they were her tumors; that was where the cancer lived. All I could do was run away. The factories turned into a white space without walls, where wine fountains in booths spewed bubbles at me. I could taste them and heard knocking . . . was I awake?
    â€œBankers!” Mother shouted, standing all dressed up by my bedside with a bottle of champagne in her hand. “Hah hah! I met bankers!” A wild lust for life glowed from her face and placed me squarely in the waking world.
    â€œHow did you get in?”
    â€œIn the end I had to have someone let me in,” she answered. “ Mein Sohn , I said, Notfall . It’s incredible how you can sleep, Hermann. I’ve been knocking on your door since early this morning.”
    â€œYou had someone let you in? What’s wrong with you?”
    â€œTrooper, I was trying to explain this to you. I went down for breakfast—like normal people do, and by that I mean people who don’t sleep until noon—and what do you think I hear from inside the Gold Room? Icelandic, Trooper, Icelandic! There they were, five bankers drinking champagne. So I asked if I could join them. Well, it turned out they were having a meeting, but they gave me a bottle of this. Veuve Clicquot. Don’t you like it?”
    I could still taste the champagne and I realized that the final scene in my dream had not been a dream after all.
    â€œDid you pour that into my mouth while I was asleep?”
    â€œSomething had to be done. You can’t waste time sleeping in every day. Have you seen the weather outside? Just wonderful. And the view . . . You’re a genius to have found us this hotel.”
    I got up and walked out onto the small balcony, which was just big enough for two chairs and a tiny table. It was a warm day. The sun seeped through the threadbare mist that spread over the city, immersing it in soft spring air. In my soul I was at homecoming, twenty years old, drooling alcohol at nine in the morning, convinced that within half an hour my body would be saturated with liquor and love for all the dimensions of the universe. We had decided earlier that the weekend would be an adventure, sickness banished from existence, and the only meaning of life would be to have fun until we dropped